


Masquerade

by firenation_online



Category: Sanders Sides
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Dreams, Panic Attacks, Self Harm, Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24230725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firenation_online/pseuds/firenation_online
Summary: Virgil has self harmed before and is beginning to struggle with those thoughts again.  Also, anxiety and depression are a thing.  Might have him end up with Roman or Logan. IDK I really have no idea where this is going. First attempt at writing fanfiction so please be kind. Thanks for reading!
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I’ve tried to write fanfiction and the first time I’ve written creatively in probably almost 10 years. Not sure how it’s going to end or even if it ever will. Just fair warning. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 1 

“Why don’t you ever tell us how you feel?!”

“Because I feel like I’m being over dramatic, and whiny, and making everything all about me and I HATE being over dramatic!”

“Well, how are we supposed to help you if we don’t know how you feel?”

“What do you want me to do? Be all ‘I’m so sad, I’m so depressed’ and emo all the time? That’s just stupid.”

“We just care about you and want to know how you’re doing. It’s hard to help when you don’t tell us.”

“Well I don’t like talking about it!”

The awkward squirming feeling in my stomach seemed to grow as the silence went on. Our eyes played tag as I avoided catching his gaze. 

“It’s getting late, I should go.”

“K.” Roman reached in for our customary goodnight hug. I was pretty sure the awkward squirmy feeling was an octopus assembling some sort of calculator in my gut. I hated arguing with him, and the guilty discomfort only intensified as the embrace lingered. I didn’t much like hugs. I didn’t really dislike them either, they just didn’t really do anything for me. Now, if someone wanted to play with my hair...well, no one ever did so I guess it didn’t really matter, even if I had grown it out a bit hoping someone would want to run their fingers through it, maybe tugging at small strands as they braided a small section- stop. I needed to stop wishing and thinking about things that wouldn’t happen. I was just setting myself up for disappointment. 

I walked to the door wishing he would turn around or get back to whatever he was doing before we started arguing. I told myself to keep my expression neutral, my shoulders relaxed, and please please please don’t trip or fumble as I tried to act naturally with his gaze on my back. It was like an itch crawling up my back under my shirt, over the back of my arms, and eventually resting on the back of my neck. I just wanted it to stop but I knew from experience that nothing I did would help so I just tried to act as though nothing was wrong and I was completely relaxed. 

I’d been doing this for so long I’d become pretty good at pretending I was fine and relaxed and confident and nothing was bothering me. Recently though, Roman had been asking more and more questions and didn’t seem to accept the answers that usually deflected his interest. I wondered if he’d been talking to Logan. Logan knew more about this kind of stuff, but he was absolutely hopeless at reading people, or at least at reading me. Roman, or at least Roman before a couple weeks ago, could read me a little better but always seemed to believe what I told him. Until recently at least. The two of them teaming up would be a nightmare to deal with. Why are they always trying to get me to open up and talk about what he I’m feeling, that’s what Emile is for, right?

Speaking of Emile, I should probably schedule my next appointment with him before I forget again. Not tonight though. I was already frustrated and anxious and I didn’t want to try and get something else done on top of dealing with all that. 

After taking my meds and getting ready for bed, I lay down and started to play on my phone. I’d hoped the pent up frustration would have unravelled somewhat by now, but it remained, tensed in my muscles and in my mind. Not for the first time today I thought about finding a pin or the tip of a sharp pencil to drag imaginary lines across my skin. I knew from experience that the small discomfort would help to unravel some of the anxiety that lay coiled throughout my body. I was hesitant though. I hadn’t truly self-harmed in almost eight years and I was worried that a pencil or a pin might become a knife or razor blade and the imaginary lines I traced might make their way into reality. I wondered again if this was something I should bring up with Emile. Probably, but what if he tried to stop me and took away my method of relieving some of the pain and discomfort. 

I turned on the flashlight setting on my phone and illuminated the side of my wrist. I wondered if any of them had ever seen the thin silvery scars or knew what they had meant. Probably not. Patton would have promptly gone to tears and Roman would have almost certainly confronted me about them. Logan though, I was never sure about him. He had an eye for detail and I would never tell what he was thinking. Ice ran down my spine and I froze. What if Logan knew? What if he told Roman and Patton? What if they were just all trying to manipulate him into revealing his secrets? What if he did and that was the one last push they needed to realize it wasn’t worth it to try and be friends with someone with as many issues as he had.

I sighed, snuggled further under the covers, and felt around for my teddy bear. It’s kind of embarrassing to still sleep with a stuffed animal. I just hope none of the others have noticed it. Even though it’s pretty pathetic, it really does make it easier to fall asleep. My weighted blanket and sleep meds help too...usually. . If I’m being honest with himself, it can get kind of exhausting keeping up a mask around my friends and roommates, but I’ve worn it so long I’m not really sure what I’d look like without it. It's probably a bit late for that kind of existentialism anyway. If all else fails, I can always just hide under my covers, stay there, and never come out.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Virgil stood next to a castle parapet holding his mask. Soft traces of music and candlelight made their way across the rooftop garden to where he stood leaning backward against the cool stone rail. It had been a pleasant evening, celebrating...what? He couldn’t remember but it also seemed he didn’t care. A masked ball celebrating so-and-so’s engagement to another so-and-so? That was it. His stomach twisted as he remembered how his father had begun negotiating his own betrothal and engagement. Being sold like a horse to the highest bidder who would break him and use him and… Virgil shuddered. It probably wouldn’t be as bad as all that. He had no way of knowing as, thus far, he had not been informed of the specifics of any suitors. For all he knew, his father had already chosen. Oh God, what if they were here! What if he had seen them from across the crowded hall or danced with them! His legs felt weak and his arms began to shake slightly. He breathed carefully but the air didn’t seem to contain any oxygen. His eyes watered. Lights elongated strangely as the stone bricks grew fuzzy and warped. He turned and placed both hands on the stone edge and struggled to breathe. It was fine. He was fine. He was alone. He was safe. He was fi- a hand clamped down on his shoulder. He flinched and whirled around. A man in a large dark mask stood in front of him.

“Woah there, wouldn’t want you falling to your death before we’re officially engaged!” Vigril blinked and shook his head, trying to process.

“I’m sorry, what?!”

“Your father hasn’t told you?” His bewildered expression must have been answer enough because the man grinned and responded, “well then, allow me to introduce myself as your future husband!” He leaned over Virgil with a hand resting on the stonework on either side of him effectively trapping him there. 

“I saw you at your presentation in court a few years ago and well,” the man’s gaze left Virgil’s face to travel down his body, scrutinizing every detail, “I just had to have you.” His hands moved to Virgil’s chest as he slowly leaned in. Virgil, still struggling to gain his bearings, leaned back, away from the stranger. 

Suddenly the stranger’s hands were no longer on his chest but behind him. One hand on the back of Virgil’s head pushed him toward the stranger and their lips met. Virgil froze, eyes wide with shock, mind reeling incoherently. What? Who was? even … can’t What? think The man’s other hand slowly traveled from the center of Virgil’s back downward. When the hand reached his rear, the man pulled Virgil roughly toward him and deepened his assult on Virgil’s mouth.

Everything in him screamed NO! and he threw himself away from the stranger. He threw himself back over the edge of the parapet. And he fell. His heart was in his throat and his arms and hands clawed the air for something, anything to keep from falling. The ground rushed up to meet him and...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the cliffhanger. Originally there wasn’t one but I haven’t finished the next bit yet and I really wanted to post this part.


End file.
